


Time is a Thief

by Lautari



Series: Threading Stars [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Family Feels, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Vector Prime still cuts me deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lautari/pseuds/Lautari
Summary: Chewie had loved Mara, accepting her into their family easily, often teasing her about, “their manes being out of place in the clan.” He’d been the first to adopt Luke and Leia as well, long before Han did. Whatever family Han had was because of Chewie...and in a small way he had that in common with Mara as well. The Wookie had been the first of them to show Mara real kindness on that trek on Myrkr.





	Time is a Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Slightly before the events of Agents of Chaos: Hero's Trial

Luke unceremoniously knocked a toolbox off a cart and Han nearly leapt through the bottom of the Falcon. “By all the lights of Coruscant, do you Jedi always have to sneak up on me?”

“Oops.”

Han narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure. What do you want?”

“What are you doing?” The ice in Luke’s voice gave Han pause. It was rare to hear in his brother in law’s voice and it was not often misplaced.

Han frowned. “We’re going to Kashyyyk tomorrow. Getting the ship ready.”

“All day?” Luke’s eyes flicked to the bottle of whiskey sitting beside some rags.

Han straightened and took a step forward. “Is there something you want to say, kid?”

Luke stepped forward as well. “Leia and the kids are home.”

“And?”

“You should be there. You’re a father-,”

“And you’re not,” Han hissed.

Luke’s eyes flashed. First in hurt, and then intense anger. His and Mara’s childlessness was a struggle for them and a low blow considering his devotion to his sister’s children. Their little family was all any of them had, and Luke had as much a hand in raising the Solo children as their parents. “If I had a child I wouldn’t be wasting time at low level sabacc tables while my son was struggling.”

Hand got nose to nose with Luke. “Don’t talk to me about wasting time when your wife is dying and you’re standing here arguing with me.”

Time seemed to slow down.

Luke swung first.

Han had to hand it to him, he hadn’t expected it. The younger man was no stranger to fights – the Rogues were known for leaving broken barstools in their wake – but he rarely started them. Fights had faded as everyone had grown older, but the two men had never been on opposite sides. He staggered back, smarting from what he wondered was a broken jaw with the extra strength behind Luke's prosthetic, but recovered quickly and landed a swing of his own. It felt good. Both men glared at each other for a moment before completely descending into a brawl at the bottom of the Falcon’s ramp.

Wedge Antilles, on Coruscant in the wake of the Vong threat, had been inspecting fighters when the argument had begun escalating and lingered nearby in case he needed to intervene. On the first punch, he dropped his clipboard and shot across the hangar floor. “Hey!” he growled. “Hey break it up you two idiots –,” he dodged Luke’s elbow. _“Hey!”_

Luke literally hurled Han against the bottom of the Falcon and let him drop.

Wedge placed a hand on his old friend’s chest. “Whoa, Luke, _easy_.”

Han wheezed and regained his footing, angry that the kid could be besting him. “Not fair,” he coughed, bringing his fists up. “Fight me without your hokey re-,”

Wedge shoved him back. He liked them both, considered both good, old friends, but if it came to putting a rancor in this fight he’d choose Luke. Every time. Or just stun them both and leave them. “Don’t try it. Stand down.”

Han flailed backward as Luke gave him another Force shove and Wedge turned on him and gave him a shove of his own. “Luke, I will stun you and hand you over to NR police. People are watching,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “We are facing invasion and a Jedi master and former general scuffling in a hangar is not going to calm nerves.” He jerked his head up the ramp. “Get on the kriffing Falcon.”

Surprisingly, Luke did as he was told with looking at either men and Han had enough shame to look a little embarrassed. Wedge took pity and tossed him a rag. “Stop bleeding on my floor.”

Han nodded his thanks and wrapped his knuckles before following Luke. It had been years since Wedge had stepped foot on the freighter, but it looked and smelled the same. Nostalgia hit him. He never thought he would long for the days of the Rebellion, but this new threat was beyond anything they’d faced before and youth was slowly slipping past. He was reminded of that with the moans of his two friends as they nursed their wounds in the rec. A cloth hung out of Luke’s nostril and a knot was forming on Han’s forehead. “If you two are the best we’ve got against the Vong, I would’ve never accepted my commission again.”

Luke chuckled. “We‘ve had worse odds.”

“We all have something to lose now.”

The three of them sobered, thinking of the families and the lives they’d built since living on Alliance ships and bases. “Yeah,” Luke whispered.

Neither Luke nor Han offered anything else, so Wedge took a step back towards the hatch. “Look, if you guys promise to keep it civilized, I’ll leave, but I’ll be close. Next time you guys want to start a fight don’t forget to invite me.” He grinned. “These new recruits are just too respectable nowadays, I don’t get to have any fun anymore.”

Luke grinned at him. “Sure, Wedge.”

**********

After Wedge disappeared, neither had much to say. Han knew he’d crossed a line. Knew that when it came to Mara, Luke was as protective as wampa. He was still too angry though, still hurting too much to care much about careless words.

Luke leaned his elbows against his knees and tossed his bloody rag on the floor. “Look,” he said, stretching the fingers of his prosthetic hand. “I know what Chewie meant to you. I know this is hard. He was family, but your family grew. Chewie embraced that and we all lost him. He didn’t sacrifice himself for the child you entrusted him with for you to act like the asshole smuggler you were twenty years ago. He was your best friend, but you’re mine. And I love you. And I love my sister, and I love the kids. Just like Chewie did.” Luke shrugged and his lip trembled slightly. “I might not know anything about having a son, but I do know what it is to be willing to sacrifice myself for people I loved. I know Chewie would do it again in a heartbeat and he would expect you to respect his choice.”

He stood and pulled his black glove on, still not looking at Han. “Now, you’re going to close up the Falcon, clean yourself up, and go home to your family. And that,” he said pointing to an empty whiskey bottle. “Is not going to make an appearance. Just until we get back from Kashyyyk. Then you can do whatever you need to do to get through this.” He straightened his tunic. “I’m taking my X-wing tomorrow. As soon as the ceremony is over, I’m coming straight home to my wife. I-,”

He cocked his head and looked like he was listening before he turned without another word and disappeared.

Han shook his head. “You think I’d be use to that shavit.” He threw his own rag down and followed. “I’m not through with you,” he growled, but stopped when he saw Luke frozen at the top of the ramp.

He frowned and peered over his shoulder. It was Mara, with her hand linked through Wedge’s arm, making her way across the floor. They were both grinning and Wedge had her hand covered with his own, allowing her to pace them, without appearing to be. “I hope you’ll bring Iella and the girls over,” she was saying as they got closer.

She smiled weakly at her husband and he was down the ramp and by her side in a second. “Sweetheart, wha-?”

“I felt you hurting.” She touched his cheek.

He placed his hand over hers. “I’m fine.”

“Mara,” Han said.

She nodded at him. “Han.”

She was still beautiful, though weak. To those that didn’t know her well, little could be seen, but to her family, the toll of the disease was in her face. Her eyes were tired.

Luke was gazing at his wife, though her attention was on his brother in law. The defiance in her eyes reminded him of Chewie. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it to the memorial. Please give Mala and the others my best.”

Chewie had loved Mara, accepting her into their family easily, often teasing her about, “their manes being out of place in the clan.” He’d been the first to adopt Luke and Leia as well, long before Han did. Whatever family Han had was because of Chewie...and in a small way he had that in common with Mara as well. The Wookie had been the first of them to show Mara real kindness on that trek on Myrkr.

_[He likes her] he’d huffed, nudging Han and nodding across the camp._

_Han frowned. He’d noticed. “He’s got a thing for redheads, I guess…and dancing with death.”_

_[He sees her] Chewie insisted, touching his chest. [Like he did you.]_

_“That was completely different.”_

_Chewie gave him the closest thing to an eyeroll a Wookie could manage. His gaze slid back over to Luke walking Mara through levitation, while stealing glances at her long red braid when her eyes were closed. [No. He sees her.]_

He nodded, coming back to the present. “Of course.”

“And take care of my husband, will you? You haven’t forgotten how since I took over, have you?”

Luke stared at the floor and Han swallowed the lump in his throat. “Never.”

She smiled faintly and nodded. “Thank you.”

Knowing it was what she needed hear, Wedge gripped Luke’s shoulder. Whatever happened in future, if Mara wasn’t there, Luke would be looked after. “He’s always in good hands, Mara.”

Luke slipped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go home. I’ve got an early clearance tomorrow. What do you say we get some take out from that little stand you like?” He turned them both away without looking at his brother in law, but called over his shoulder. “Go home, Han.”

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this little piece a few weeks before Peter Mayhew's death and then got side tracked. Once I heard, I knew I had to finish it and thought that maybe, the timing was perfect. This is a short vignette, but my little salute to everyone's favorite Wookie.


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